It’s just a phase, 

An episode,

A rebellious turn,

Part of the road.

It’s just a stage,

The youths are idle,

Unexpected – 

You’ve lost the bridle,

Then you screech

“If I’ve told you once…” 

The same old speech…

Like talking to the fence.

Suspended talk, mid litany – 

You take a long, deep breath.

Then comes this weird epiphany,

And you storm off down the street!

Five hours later you reappear,

The family’s really missed you.

“We’re starving…” Yes – they make it clear,

Unplugging from their gadgets.

They tear away from cyberspace,

Reality’s for ancients.

But then they see you sitting there,

All calm – relaxed and quiet.

“Mum! What’s happened to your hair?

It really looks a riot!”

You deal a punk rock “I’m so cool” stare,

More striking than your monologue.

A flashback to those teenage years – 

Rebellion seems a distant fog.

“Now listen…” And there’s not a sound,

Then the stylus hits the vinyl…

The record spins around and round,

Rebellion – punk revival.